


Vincere

by TheClumsyHero



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Sibling Love, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-02-01 08:00:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21449791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheClumsyHero/pseuds/TheClumsyHero
Summary: Vincere (verb): to win, to vanquish, defeat. The meaning of the name Victoriano is: Conqueror. A story in which Laura's death was a lie and Ruben "Ruvik" Victoriano escaped. Their paths were bound to cross again.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Vincere

Morning light flickered through the display case of the small shop and danced off the various decorative vases filled with colorful flowers of all shapes and sizes. Said display was currently being tampered with, delicate hands rearranging the even more delicate flowers in order to bring them to their full glory. It was early, and the streets of Krimson had just begun to be flooded with people rushing to work, but this made no difference to the woman. Laura preferred the morning life and always had; even in her childhood she would wake in the early hours of the day ready to tackle whatever came at her. Coming into work so early had never been something that phased her. 

Well, that was at least how the world saw her. Whether or not she was actually bothered would never be known; she was a master of deceit. 

Laura Victoriano was no stranger to tragedy, and unfortunately, that fact had been publicized; the scars followed her to this day. While it had been many years since her incident, there were still a select few who recalled, who apologized, who dragged her back into that barn so many years ago. And those who did not know, who only knew her as a passing stranger could see the fire's mark upon her flesh. These physical scars had been easier to deal with. It was the loss of her brother that still tore her to pieces to this very day. 

Ruben, that boy, Laura would have done anything for him. She loved him more than life itself and made it a point to show such. In the end, she had even been willing to put down her own life for his. She had not. And he had lost his own in her place. While she had done everything she could, Ruben had been the one who was lost to the flames and she went on without him. It had not been her fault and yet she couldn't help but feel blame weigh heavily upon her shoulders. 

Sleepless nights were not uncommon. She smiled nonetheless. 

The years were kind to her despite the marring of scars. Beauty never seemed to elude her; her strength was resounding and her presence otherworldly. Many found her captivating--how could they not? She was elegance personified. 

Her hair had been swept off her face and braided into a low bun on the back of her head; a shame, considering her hair was so beautiful but she still managed to remain stunning no matter the style of hair. She wore a yellow sundress, quite breathtaking, and certainly it matched just how bright her personality was. She spoke with a customer and laughed--it could cause heads to turn, nearly stopped the world from spinning. 

All of these thoughts flooded the pale man that stood outside the store front, gazing in through the immaculate display window. He couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy rush through him; surely it should have been him talking to her and making her laugh, and yet he was outside, gazing in as a stranger in foreign flesh. Emotions were high--he hated that, knew they only arose around her but despised them nonetheless. He was usually calm and collected; cold, couldn't be bothered but he always felt burning passion when he saw her. Love. He loved her. He would kill for her--he would die for her. 

He thought she had died for him. 

The man remembered the first time he caught sight of her and had been flooded with these emotions. He had felt anger--betrayal, moreso than he could ever remember. And then it occurred to him it was misplaced, and once more he relished the fact he'd ended his bastard of a father's wasteful life when he had. He had then debated on approaching her but hadn't the courage. She was no doubt angry with him, no doubt disgusted; she had been marked by the flames and tormented by her past all the same and had it not been for him she could have escaped. She also did not know this body, Leslie, he served as a lovely vessel but it was not his own. 

From afar he had watched, his heart aching each time. Each day was the same, and each day he would walk away. She often meandered around the store and would leave for breaks. It was when he would depart, hide his face or leave to avoid any suspicion.

The day a thin hand grabbed his own had nearly caused him to jump from his skin. 

At first he'd went for the pocket knife he kept slipped within his pocket at all times, but upon catching the face he found himself freeze. 

Her. Laura. She had grabbed him. And she was smiling of all things, how cruel she was to smile so sweetly! 

"I've noticed you outside the shop a lot!" She said. "But you never come in. Is there something you had in mind? I would be happy to help you!" 

While he felt she was releasing her grip, his own tightened. This obviously confused her as her features very slightly shifted. He refused to let go, and she did not pull away. Instead, she seemed to appear concerned. It nearly made him sick; making her feel this way was certainly a crime. 

"I'm sorry." The words slipped so effortlessly from his lips he could not stop them. "You deserved better." 

She smiled at him after that, a confused, but polite smile. 

"I'm sorry, I don't understand." How could she? 

"The fire." His words were soft, but oh she heard them. It appeared she had heard them all too often before. 

"Oh." It was so very quiet he nearly felt his heart break. "It's alright. I'm surprised someone as young as yourself knows about that. It was in the paper ages ago. I'm quite alright." 

Once again she was taken by surprise when a second hand took her own delicate one and held it firm in it's grasp. 

"You should have gotten out. You should have just saved yourself." 

He could tell there was a minor amount of panic, felt dirty for reading her the way he was but continued doing so nonetheless. 

"I'm sorry, I really should go." She was uncomfortable but he never released his hold on her. 

"I thought you were dead." It was the final phrase that escaped him and it immediately halted her movement. 

"I'm sorry but do I--who are you?" 

He remained silent despite the question, crystal blue eyes staring into a pair of near identical ones. He watched her expressions flicker, watched as tears stung her eyes and confusion continuously washed over her. She was processing, thinking, all of which went into a single word. 

"Ruben?" 

He could see she immediately regretted it, backtracked, he allowed her hand to find its way from his own grip toward her eyes that were carefully wiped, no doubt to avoid the makeup from smearing. 

"That was--I'm sorry that was so--I'm not sure where that came from I--I'm not quite sure what has gotten into me." 

"The paper said you died. He said you died. Did he tell you the same?" The way he spoke was brazen, almost cold, but he meant no harm in his words. Despite such, he watched her tears begin to overwhelm her and they freely fell down her cheeks. 

He had been grabbed at that point, pulled inside the shop and taken into the back where it was only the two of them and no prying eyes. She had stared at him, hard, tears still escaping on occasion. Several times her mouth had opened only to close and he watched her through it all, admiring her, hurting for her. 

"Ruben died." This was almost as if she were trying to convince herself of such, as though she were truly debating her brother's presence in this other man. "He died in that fire my father had said--"

"And he said you died. As did the paper." 

The face was not his own. The body was not his own nor the voice and yet--the look in his eyes. The inflection he held, the way he stared at her. 

"I thought /you/ were dead." Her words were so quiet he nearly missed them. 

"I was. Briefly." Technically speaking, it was his physical body, but that wasn't relevant. 

"Ruben." She repeated, but this time her actions were much different. Those hands found themselves very carefully brushing his cheeks before they rested upon them, held that face between her hands. He watched her face twist into an emotion he couldn't describe, and he hadn't much time to figure it out as he was soon being pulled into an embrace. 

She held him in her arms, fingers digging into the material of his shirt, her face buried into the crook of his neck. He could feel her heave against him, felt the wetness of her tears soak through the material of his shirt. He held her in the same manner; felt as though she would disappear if he dared release her. His name echoed through the small room over and over; and he found stray tears even escaping him. Before long they found themselves heading downward until they were left a heaving mass on the floor, Laura only pulling him closer to herself--something he hadn't thought possible. 

While it had taken some time, eventually her sobbing had become less violent, and aside from the occasional sniff or heavy breath, the room had fallen silent. 

"Can you ever forgive me?" 

His words cut through the silence almost aggressively, and Laura responded accordingly. 

"Forgive you? Ruben, what is there possibly to forgive you for?" 

"For your suffering." 

It was that statement that had finally pulled her from her death grip she held on her brother. It gave her the opportunity to wipe the few years from his eyes and once more hold his face between her hands. 

"Ruben, you have never caused me anything but joy and love. Forgive me for not being able to do more for you. For never finding you." 

This struck him like a whip. Her asking for forgiveness? He grabbed at her hands, held them in his grip and stared her directly in the eye. 

"Laura, I never want you to ask forgiveness from me."

"Then let's not ask it of each other. So much has happened to both of us, let's just enjoy each other's company, alright?" 

This was something he absolutely agreed with, and he allowed himself to be pulled into her embrace once more. He missed her smell, the feel of her presence, the warmth of her embrace and while it was not his physical body it seemed to be enough for her as she held him so close to her being. She didn't care the form he came in, nor the condition. All she cared about was that this was her brother--and now she wouldn't let him go for anything in the world. He was comfortable like this; if he were to go now, he would have been thankful it was in his sister's arms. 

Just as he began to close his eyes and fully succumb to her embrace, he heard a very faint whisper in his ear. 

"You need a haircut, Ruben." It was followed by a laugh, one mixed with tears and a twinge of lingering sadness.

A snort escaped him in response. 

"Very well. I suppose I'll let you go at it." 

Things were going to be okay. No matter what, they would be sure of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So this was a drabble I did super late at night and just on a whim so I hope you enjoyed it! I really love these two and wanted to do something along these lines for a while.


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